A surprising chill today

A surprising chill today.

Reach, without thinking,

for the back of the closet.

The wool, heavy, familiar,

a little too long in the sleeve.

It's yours. Or, it was.

The faint smell—

not me. A ghost of old softener,

something woodsy,

and beneath it,

a subtle whiff of stale coffee

and desperation,

like old paper.

My fingers, numb at first,

then curious, slide into the inner pocket.

And there. A crumpled note.

A grocery list.

Years old. 'Milk, bread,

that fancy cheese we liked.'

The 'we' stings.

A map of intentions,

forgotten items.

I pull it out, smooth the creases,

and fold it again. Small square,

a secret burden.

The coat hangs heavy on my shoulders.

It doesn't fit right.

It never did.